skin stained by possibilities
by Cookies and Ink
Summary: Ron woke up hungover, with no memory of the night before and a phone number scrawled in permanent marker on his arm. Whilst clearly the signs of a good night out, it also ended up being the moment that the future became possible rather than implausible.


**A/N:** Written as part of February's Meet Cute marathon. Other prompts & challenges listed below.

Word Count: 1,867

* * *

 **skin stained by possibilities**

Ron hated hangovers. He got out of bed after an hour of being awake, scrolling through social media and cursing how blackout drunk he'd gotten the night before. The main reason he'd been on facebook, then twitter, the Instagram was to try and find out exactly _what_ had led to him feeling as though he'd been hit by a truck on death's door.

It had been one of those nights where he'd just gone out for one pint and somehow it had snowballed. Bar hopping along Diagon Alley tended to be okay but then he remembered turning down Knockturn and that was where things always got messy.

Forcing himself to get up, thinking that food might help nausea, Ron pulled off the clothes he'd fallen asleep in and then froze. On his forearm, there was a phone number written in large red pen. He rubbed it in some disbelief and it didn't come away. Who had written on him in permanent marker? He'd have to put long sleeves on or if God forbid his Mother - or worse his siblings - saw it he'd never hear the end of it. Was it some sort of booty call thing?

Ron checked his trouser pockets and then the ones in his leather jacket - the condoms he always took out were still there so it was unlikely that he'd gotten lucky the night before. Grabbing his phone off the floor where it must have fallen off the bedside table, he quickly text Seamus and Dean.

* * *

R - What tf happened last night? Don't remember anything after we left Leaky.

D - not surprised after you chugged our last drinks, saying you didn't want anything to go to waste.

S - that's because **[** **LankyBastard]** is a boss and we were about to get kicked out. Took one for the team. That's why we've been best mates for forever. 'Cause we're all fucking hard as nails.

D - we were about to get kicked out because you practically shouted kept complaining about getting sacked. Also, we've been friends because we met in detention at private school. Calm down.

D - I have most of last night on video. Shay, you literally say 'You moon the wrong person at an office party, and suddenly you're not 'professional' any more.' and Tom behind the bar tells you you've had enough and you threaten to get him arrested for denying you the right to grieve.

S - damn **[** **WakandaForever]** , pull out the receipts.

R - So Seamus was angry, we got kicked out and then what?

D - definitely ended up in the Apothecary at some point because I've got the entry stamp on my hand.

R - oh god no wonder I can't remember. Absolutely lethal.

S - I think i'm still drunk tbh

R - um guys did I talk to anyone or anything?

D - idk? Can check pics & videos?

S - makes you sound like a stalker.

D - shut up **[L** **eprechaun]**

R - I woke up with a number on my arm.

S - nice.

R - in bright red permanent marker.

S - nice.

R - can you stop being a dick and help me.

S - well what happened when you rang it?

D - you should call it?

S - Yas **[** **WakandaForever]** , great minds my dude.

R - ….

R - Okay I didn't think of that. I'm going to call it.

* * *

Ron didn't actually call the number until after he'd gone downstairs, endured comments from his Mum about sleeping half the day away, threatened his sister when she started to sing loudly and then had a fry up at 3 pm in the afternoon.

Living at home was necessary because no matter how many times Ron looked online or in the papers, there didn't seem to be anything available to rent or flatshare anywhere nearby. As Ron trudged up the stairs to his room, all he could think was that today with his head banging, home felt cramped. Fred was listening to music, George was gaming, his Dad was mowing the lawn outside and even four floors up he could hear his Mum and Ginny arguing.

Shutting his bedroom door closed and falling into his bed, Ron exhaled heavily. He'd been dying to move out for months and had enough savings where it felt possible now. All he needed was a bit of good luck.

The first time he typed the number in and pressed call, he ended it after the first ring. The second time, it rang out until an automated voicemail asked him if he wanted to leave a message. He had almost decided to try to shower and scrub the number off when his phone screen lit up.

"Hey, sorry I missed your call. About last night, if you still don't want to do it, that's absolutely fine and I can give you your money back."

Ron's mind went blank.

"Uhhh… sorry mate but… I literally have no idea what you're talking about."

There was a long moment of silence which Ron then rushed to fill as he felt his cheeks heat up.

"I woke up this morning really hungover with your number on my arm and, like, no memory of what happened. I'm sorry if I'm being offensive or insulting or something but if you could tell me what happened I'd really appreciate it."

Maybe it was a booty call. Or he'd promised some crazy sexual favour or… Ron's mind ran wild as he heard soft laughter down the phone.

"We met at the Apothecary and got talking because I asked if I could buy you a drink. It felt risky, you looked pretty straight but I had to try and you have a beautiful smile. Anyway, you said you wanted to move out from home and I mentioned that I was looking for an apartment but couldn't afford it on my own. You wired me the deposit and said we should move in together."

"I did?"

"Yeah, but obviously you were drunk so there are no hard feelings. My name's Harry, by the way, I probably should have led with that if you don't remember me."

"Green eyes," Ron mumbled as he tried desperately to remember.

"That'd be me." Harry sounded amused. "If you give me your details I can transfer the money back you."

"Actually… Can I give you my email and maybe you can send me some details about this place? Just so I know?"

It was a crazy idea, ridiculous even but Harry agreed happily and whilst they ended the call somewhat awkwardly, Ron kept thinking of his voice and the one thing he could remember of the night before, which were a pair of the most captivating green eyes he'd ever seen in his life. He'd always played it safe and done the 'right thing' but now there was an opportunity in front of him and Ron was tempted to leap.

* * *

[two weeks later]

S - I still think we should celebrate now that **[WeasleyWanker]** is moving out!

R - the apartment is just the other side of town.

D - I think we should celebrate that Ron's probably going to be getting some action. I found Harry online and he's gorgeous.

S - kay but you really are a stalker now **[BlackBobRoss]**.

D - flatterer.

R - We met the other day for coffee to discuss all the details and I got to meet the landlord too who gave us a tour. The weird guy who couldn't remember our names, Cuthbert Binns.

S - I didn't know people called Cuthbert were still alive, you'd think they'd all be dead or ghosts or something.

D - why are you like this.

S - just saying.

R - He was fine although since he didn't know a thing I think we might have to sort out shit if anything goes wrong.

D - and Harry? Is he as stunning as he looks in his pics or is that all filter magic?

R - no comment.

S - SLIP IT IN MATE.

R - fuck you

S - I know you're hoping Harry will.

D - I'll give you an alibi Ron, feel free to kill him.

R - tempting. Very tempting.

* * *

The day Ron moved was chaotic. It wasn't like he had a lot of stuff, in fact, it fit in three boxes but his Mother made a scene and then George tried to put itching powder in the box with his bedding in and it'd nearly come to blows.

Finally, his Dad had broken them up, got Ron's stuff in the boot and driven him over to what was going to be Ron's new apartment. It was above an old University building. Cuthbert the landlord had told them that it had once been a history department until the University had modernised and moved history into a new building. Since then it had been repurposed into a series of flats. The one Harry and Ron were moving into was on the top floor.

Thankfully all his Dad did was carry the boxes upstairs, leave them piled by the front door and then patted Ron on the shoulder.

"This'll be good for you Ron. I know you want to be your own man so I won't take too long. Just look after yourself, be safe and remember to come home for Sunday lunch."

"Love you Dad. You know I'll probably be home in a few days so Mum can do some of my washing."

His Dad laughed as he headed to the lift. The doors pinged when it arrived and Harry walked out carrying a duffle bag. Ron felt himself blush as his Dad glanced at them both, shook Harry's hand and then went into the lift.

"Wow, so we got here at the same time?" Harry said, eyes flickering over to Ron's boxes then back to him.

"Yeah. Great minds… Do you have a lot of stuff or need help carrying anything?"

"Nope. Everything I own is in this bag. My Aunt and Uncle didn't really let me clutter the house with my stuff. I'm so glad to be away from them."

Something in Harry's voice and expression made Ron uneasy. He sounded truly relieved as opposed to Ron's general frustration with living at home. Putting it to the back of his mind, Ron dug out his new key and opened the front door.

"Home sweet home then I guess Harry."

"All because you got drunk and convinced me we should do it. Thank you, Ron. I thought I was never going to move out."

"Yeah, I know the feeling. But we have and now it feels like…"

"Like anything's possible."

Harry smiled at him as he said it, walking through the front door into the apartment. As Ron followed him, carrying a box, he felt his blush deepen. No doubt Harry meant it more in general terms, that doors would open for them and the future would be full of opportunities. Nevertheless, Ron let his eyes linger on his new roommate's ass as the man walked ahead of him.

Anything was possible.

* * *

 **A/N** : Prompts and challenges -

Meet Cute Marathon: **Day 24 -** I woke up hungover, I have no memory of last night and there's a number written on my arm. I call it and you answer the phone with "Oh its you . About last night..."

Showtime - What Is This Feeling? - (au) Roommates

Liza's Loves - Old Pal - Write about old friends

Lyric Alley - There's no space

Jenny's Jovial Quotations - "You moon the wrong person at an office party, and suddenly you're not 'professional' any more." - Jeff Foxworthy

Restrictions - No houses mentioned + Professor Binns

The Forty Days Challenge: Write about someone giving in to temptation.

The Insane House Challenge - Plot Point - Finding new roommates

Play More Cards - Hearts - write a meet cute


End file.
